Define Too Close
by John Smith
Summary: A small set of drabbles revolving around Jack and Jamie's friendship. No pairings.


_Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the actual words that are written here._

_Author's Note: So it turns out that I love Jamie and Jack bff fics so much that I had to write one of my own. Suggestions, comments, questions and of course reviews are always welcome. If you would like to submit prompt ideas, feel free. I may decide to use one or two if they give me a good vision. :)_

* * *

Summers usually paled in comparison to the winters of Burgess, but Jamie Bennett found himself relishing this one. He jumped through sprinklers, swam in Pippa's pool, played manhunt, and watched his 11th birthday pass with wide, excited eyes. But as July turned into August and then into September—as the leaves began turning every shade of warm—Jamie could feel a growing sense of apprehension where elation usually sat. Truth be told, he had no idea what to expect this winter.

After Jack had suddenly and without explanation given him the cold shoulder in the middle of last winter, he wasn't sure if he should be looking forward to the snows this year or not. But Jamie was a child filled to the brim with wonder and hope, with dreams and happy memories. He didn't have the heart to linger on the negative when there was still so much fun to be had.

And so the manhunts continued, Halloween came (and with it reminders under his and Sophie's pillows to floss), and his afternoons were filled with disappearing into massive piles of leaves. When winter finally did come, Jamie had already forgotten all of his plans to be worried and scared and maybe even a little mad. Perhaps it was because winter had taken such a long time to come this year.

The first snowfall of Burgess was in mid-December. It had all the parents chatting up a storm and all the children pouting over snow-days missed. It was almost time to break for Christmas—and what good was a snow day _then?_

So when Jamie looked out his window on December 17th and saw snow falling thick and heavy past his window, he was dressed and out of bed before his mother had finished making her coffee. He saw the alarm on her face as he darted by, but he didn't quite catch her croaked exclamation before the cold wind met his face.

The biting chill was not only welcome but laced with unparalleled memories of joy. His cheeks must have been positively rosy when he reached the pond—which was depressingly silent. For just a moment, Jamie felt the sting of disappointment. But as the wind swirled around him, it brought tones of laughter through the snowflakes. Jamie's smile was back in an instant, and he was yet again off at a sprint. Sweeping unabashedly into a neighbor's front lawn, he caught sight of a familiar blue hoodie, and he was instantly filled with warmth.

"Jack!" He called out excitedly. Jack looked up with a start and smiled. Suddenly the delayed winter and that long, long autumn seemed to rush into his chest all at once, and Jamie realized that he had really, _really_ missed Jack. His mad dash fell into a bashful stumble, however, when someone called his name.

"Jamie Bennett? What brings you here so early?" Mister Jones was standing on his stoop, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand. Of course the Jones kids wouldn't be outside all alone, Jamie thought. In his excitement, he hadn't even considered that the children Jack was playing with were merely four and five themselves. They tumbled in the snow, chubby hands clad in pink mittens and chubby cheeks clad in pink cheer.

"I was... following the laughter to find Jack Frost?" He said it with a guiltily wide smile, his chin and eyebrows lifted high. He wasn't lying, at least. Mister Jones barked a laugh.

"Yes, these two won't stop going on about Jack Frost either." He continued in a slightly louder voice, "which reminds me, ladies. I told you that you're not allowed to have boyfriends until you're 19. Now come back in before your oatmeal gets cold and your mother pitches a fit." He paused, letting the two giggling girls stomp under his arm and inside. Then, again in a gentle voice, "Jamie? Do you want oatmeal as well? If you didn't have breakfast yet, you can join us." From the corner of his eye, Jamie saw Jack hop lightly onto the fence and then even farther up, out of view.

"No thanks Mister Jones but thank you!" He called in a jumble of words, dashing off after Jack yet again. Jamie was still breathless when he had finally caught up with Jack, however far _up _he could catch with someone walking on power lines. Head tilted all the way back, Jamie blinked snowflakes from his eyelashes.

"Jack!" He called again. For a second, he thought that Jack had not heard him, but then the winter spirit took a casual step off the wire and floated down into a crouch before Jamie. "Where have you _been?_ Did you have a lot of Guardian stuff to do?" He knew he must have looked overly eager at the sudden idea of daring adventures, but he didn't try to hide it.

"Kinda," Jack said with a smile. "How was your summer, kiddo?"

"It was great!" He blurted out before lowering his voice. Plenty of parents were up at this hour, much like Mister Jones. "We did all kinds of stuff. I got a whole set of hockey gear for my birthday so we can go skating, like, _whenever!_" Jack continued to smile.

"Sounds good. You're not gonna be late for school, are you?" Jamie's face fell. He had almost forgotten about school at this point.

"Iuno, I think it's still early. I made something for you, wanna see?" Jamie closed the last few steps between him and Jack now, although he found himself hesitant even as he did it. He looked down at the crouching figure, at the almost empty smile. Something about it felt so incredibly wrong, like it was forced and fake and not at all the Jack he knew.

"Sure thing." He said it with an expectant raise of the eyebrows, and Jamie found himself flushing with embarrassment.

"Well, it's in my room still," he said.

"Ah. Well, I don't want you to be late or anything. Maybe after school?" Jamie knew his face fell at the same time his heart did. He knew because it was also the exact moment that Jack's smile disappeared, briefly. Then it was back in an instant, as passive as before. "Aw c'mon kid, you can wait a few hours. It's better than your mom grounding you again, right?" He evened Jamie with a knowing expression, his smile lopsided now. "So I'll catch you after—" Jack stopped immediately—both his statement and his motion to rise and turn away—when Jamie grabbed a cold, pale hand in two small, warm ones.

"If you fly me to my room, I can show you real quick," he pled. Jamie was sure that he must have done something wrong—and maybe he was only making it worse by clinging and pulling in such a stupidly childish way, but it suddenly felt like if he let go now, he might never see more than the back of Jack's hoodie ever again.

"Sure," Jack said it gently, but it only came after a long pause.

And then they were up in the air, hidden from the world in a swirl of snowflakes. It was only a short moment, but it was filled with the same wondrous hum of magic and joy that Jamie had become familiar with. The sensation of flying was _amazing_. Lighter than air, surrounded by a flurry of cold that nipped and sang as it supported him effortlessly. Jamie laughed as the wind spun them around in play, and Jack laughed with him. And it was there, with a cold arm wrapped around him in the most gentle and the most strong embrace, that Jamie knew Jack was still—and always would be—his best friend. Maybe he _had _done something wrong, but now he was sure he could fix it. After fifteen seconds that had felt like an incredible eternity, they stepped into his room with breathless joy. Jamie shook the snowflakes from his hair as he pulled down a stack of papers pinned to his wall.

And then, brimming with a pride he could not possibly contain, he laid four drawings out on his bed for Jack to inspect.

"I spent a _lot_ of time on these. You can have one. Choose your favorite!"

* * *

Jack was left speechless. His eyes wandered over the four drawings, taking in the details of each one as much as he could but unable to rest his eyes on any single one for long. Jamie had really come far in his drawing talent—the use of color and perspective were certainly impressive for an 11-year-old's work, if still charmingly childish. Jack knew which was his favorite immediately, even if it was the most simple of the four.

The drawing farthest to the right was of Jamie and him sitting together on the roof, the moon glowing high above in the dark sky. His arm was over Jamie's shoulder, and they were not grinning nor laughing, but smiling with a contented warmth that Jack had become painfully familiar with in 300 years. He had watched that same expression bloom on hundreds of faces, nearly always from behind closed windows. Despite making his heart throb with longing, it was one of his absolute favorite things to see. His fingers twitched, and he almost reached for it—_almost—_but he stopped himself with the mental chiding of familiar voices.

_You have to think about your impact, Jack._

_Kids ain't there for us to be friends with, mate. We're _Guardians_, not buddies._

_You must know that we cannot choose favorite child. Is not about us, is about them. Children must grow, and we... we are not always helping with _that_._

The words echoed in Jack's mind. He had agreed. How could he not have? Of course, he hadn't quite agreed without some arguments of his own. In the end, though, he had seen things through their eyes, even if the revelation had sent his heart into a persistent, throbbing ache that was utterly unwelcome—but utterly familiar.

It was Tooth in particular who had laid down the law. For every point Jack lobbed forth, she offered counterpoint upon counterpoint. Children were often brutally teased if they believed too long. Some lost relationships, trust, _love_. Others lost interest in their own kind completely, desiring to be part of an immortal world that had no safe place for mortals. Some were targeted by enemies and used as leverage. Some grew resentful when they realized the negative effects belief had brought them. Throughout her barrage, Jack was insistent that it should be _Jamie's _choice. And if Jamie wanted to be friends with Jack and to continue believing for as long as he wanted, then how did _anyone_ have the right to stop him?

_He's a child, Jack. He looks at you like... like you're a _superhero_. Of course he wants to spend all the time in the world with you. _You_ have to be the adult and protect him. That is your role here._

He couldn't be mad at Tooth, so the conversation ended with a frustrated withdrawal. In all honesty, he was mad at himself for not considering such things earlier. It had blindsided him when the four sat him down for a chat about Jamie. In the end, all Jack needed was some time to think, and think he did. It wasn't until the following week, after he'd covered western Europe in a few feet of angry snow, that he returned to the Pole. Once there, North had explained some of Tooth's history to him—how her closeness with children had been the reason she relinquished her role on the field so long ago. She had every counterpoint ready because she'd been using them on _herself _for centuries.

Perhaps it was for this reason that he'd dropped by the Tooth Palace frequently in the following months. He soaked up all of her reassurances and advice, though if her expressions and sighs were any indication, she thought differently. Even so, she didn't seem deterred when he offered little for deep conversation in return, nor by the nonchalant way he batted many of her comments aside (although, was it just him or did her feathers ruffle with particular perturbation whenever he sassed a "yes, mother" in her direction?). In addition to advice and entertainment, the palace tripled as simply a place to be other than Burgess, where he knew he'd have a hard time being—even if Tooth's comforting presence was no replacement for the unparalleled play that came with _his_ children in _his_ town.

Previously, Jack hadn't even considered favoritism—it didn't matter who your favorite child was if no child at all could see you. He didn't know he was favoring Jamie. He was just... _friends_ with him. Which is why it was heartrendingly painful to see the confusion and concern in Jamie's eyes when Jack began regarding him the way he regarded nearly every other child. When he didn't show up at Jamie's window after dark to relate a tale of adventure (or three) to the starry-eyed boy. When he didn't stoop and sweep his arms outward in welcome of a protective hug and promise to be back as soon as he could next winter.

A quiet shuffling of impatient feet drew him back to the present.

Jack turned his eyes to another drawing instead, tearing his gaze from those warm, warm smiles. The one just next to his favorite was a re-draw of a _very _familiar illustration. It was Jamie on a sled, flying high in the air toward a statue of Thaddeus Burgess, surrounded by awed friends. And Jack. The spirit couldn't help but smile fondly at his own inclusion in this newer version of the J. Bennett classic.

"Jack?" Jamie's voice came from behind. He turned to look down at the boy, _really look_ at him for the first time in nearly a year. "You're mad at me, aren't you?"

"What?" Jack asked incredulously. "What? Jamie, no." He shook his head with deliberation, willing Jamie to see the meaning behind the gesture. He wanted to ask why the boy felt that way, but it was a stupid question if ever there was one. He already knew why.

"It just feels like you're kinda... ignoring me." Jamie answered the unasked question in a way that struck Jack far harder than any weapon—any _nightmare—_could have. His heart stung with pain. "Ever since last Christmas. If I did something wrong, I'm real sorry." He fidgeted, but his brown eyes were filled with an earnesty that only the Last Light could muster. "I'll do _anything_ to make it up to you. Just... please don't be mad anymore." His eyes glistened with tears, and he wiped them with the heels of his hands in jerkingly quick motions.

"I..." he began, unsure of what he could say. Because once again, he was completely blindsided. Because he knew better than _anyone _how much it hurt to be ignored. Because he had vowed to never, _ever_ bring that upon another—and here he was, doing it to the person he cared about _most_.

And so he resolved to do what the two always did when words were not enough—which was each time they parted for the long, long summer. He stooped down to one knee and wrapped his arms tightly around Jamie. It was the first time he had ever drawn the boy into a hug rather than vice versa. He felt Jamie's stiff surprise, then the small arms clasp tightly around his neck.

And there went _everything_ Tooth had told him, riiiight out the window. "Well, there goes that," he found himself muttering with a chuckle.

"Huh?" Jamie asked. His arms didn't loosen in the least.

"I just was making a really stupid mistake, Jamie," he breathed quietly into brown hair. And then: "I'm sorry I ignored you."

"It's okay," Jamie's response was muffled by blue fabric. Jack pulled away from him then, feeling fingers drag along his neck. He smiled with everything he had. It felt good to _really _smile at Jamie again, and it always felt good to be seen, to be touched, and to be _needed._ "So... you're not mad at me?" Jack mussed the mop of brown hair before him with a lopsided grin.

"I don't think I could ever be mad at you, kiddo. We're buds, alright?" Jamie nodded fervently, the excitement back in his eyes. "But can you make me a promise?" Jack sighed deeply, evening the boy with a serious gaze. They were eye-to-eye when Jamie nodded tentatively and Jack continued. "Sometimes, when kids believe for too long, it ends up hurting them a little. I want you to promise me, from the bottom of your heart, that if you ever feel like that's happening to you even a _little,_ you'll tell me. Promise?" Jamie's expression was thoughtful.

"I promise," he said. "Cross my heart." And he did.

"Good." Jack gave a single nod of finality. "Now, I know which of these is my favorite... but I can only have _one?_" He'd stood as he spoke and turned to look over the four illustrations again, tapping his chin in false thought. He picked up the one of he and Jamie sitting upon the roof together, offering a sideways glance to the delighted child beside him.

"You can have two if you want, but I really wanna save some for my portfolio."

"Portfolio?" Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah! Last month I was talking to Pippa's _awesome _aunt, and she told me that I should go to art school! She said I'm real good at drawing—that I could be like a Disney animator or _anything _if I wanted!" He thumbed his chest with such pride that Jack couldn't help but laugh and mess up that hair just a little more.

"You definitely could, from what I can tell." He gestured toward the three drawings still on the bed—of Jack being sworn in as a Guardian, of Jamie soaring on his sled, and of Jamie, Sophie, Bunny, and Jack crowded around a tiny sapling that was even now growing in their back yard. "Alright, then I'll just take this one, but you better keep drawing so I can get some more later on. Deal?" Jamie nodded.

"Deal."

"Jamie?" The door swung open, and Jamie's mother poked her head in with a look of shock. "You're _here?_ I was about to drive your backpack to school—when did you come back in?" Her glasses were lopsided on her face, and she straightened them as she spoke.

"A while ag—"

"You're going to be late for school! I can't believe you haven't even brushed your _hair_ yet." She withdrew, and they heard her muttering down the hallway in exasperated tones. Jamie chuckled; Jack laughed.

With one last fond look at his friend, Jack stepped up and perched on the window sill. "Thanks. I'll see you after school?" He rolled up the drawing and carefully placed it in his hoodie pocket.

"Okay!" Jamie said excitedly, and when he fell back to catch the wind, he saw the boy wave emphatically out the window.

High above Burgess, Jack was feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. North _had _told him that a young, fresh perspective sometimes came up with solutions that ancient wisdom so often missed. With a satisfied smirk, he lied down on thin air, crossed one leg over the other leisurely, and pulled the drawing out. The wind tugged at the edges gently as he took the scene in, resting his fingertips on the warm, gentle smiles of _family_.

Tooth may have been right about children in general. But children in general weren't Jamie.


End file.
